


Disaster

by bymak



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: #shortAndSad #loss #StargateDay2020 #StargateDay, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bymak/pseuds/bymak
Summary: Sam's thoughts mixed with the poem One Art by Elizabeth Bishop.For #StargateDay prompt #loss
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> The poem in between it's called One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. (And I just love it)  
> I swear I read somewhere that there was a prompt about Loss...

**Disaster**

_The art of losing isn't hard to master;_

_So many things seem filled with intent_

_To be lost that their loss is no disaster._

There was this book, a book that my mother gave me for my birthday. It was one of her favorites. I can't, for the life of me, remember its name now. It was so long ago. I was so young. What I do remember vividly is that I kept losing it.

Since the day I opened the package and perused its pages for the first time, I felt deeply in my chest that it was meant for me to lose it.

I was right. I started reading it like nineteen times in the short span of a year. I kept misplacing it, leaving it forgotten. Yet somehow, almost magically, it would appear back into my life. Until it didn't.

I didn't realize it was gone until my mother died. I remembered then, so suddenly, this book. How I had lost it? Just like I'd lost her. Losing the book wasn't a disaster.

_Lose something every day. Accept the fluster_

_Of lost door keys, the hour badly spent._

_The art of losing isn't hard to master._

I think I learned to deal with my aloofness to certain things. Long before I learned how to deal with her departure. Earrings were lost as part of an almost monthly routine. I would stay in my bed looking at my ceiling and hours would flutter by, disappearing for good.

It takes one minute at the time. One moment, and it's gone. Everything changes, nothing remains the same. Not even I, and I've tried. Oh, how I had tried.

No, it wasn't such a hard thing to let go of. To see things disappear from my grasp. Life's just like that. You grab moments. You hold on to feelings. You care about people. Yet, you blink, and they're gone.

_Then practice losing farther, losing faster;_

_Places, and names, and where it was you meant_

_To travel. None of these will bring disaster._

Dad uprooted us. He was a losing master. We moved dozens of times. We grew, not always knowing if we would get to fully unpack. I can't remember the names of all the places we've lived in. I can't for the life of me, remember the names of the friends I didn't quite make.

We traveled as fast as we settled, and I also started to become a losing master. What's there for you if you don't have control of your life? If it's not you, the one who can stop the craziness and never-ending losing pattern?

There was a void, yes. She left it, but with time, it dulled. It scarred. It isn't now how it used to be. It never will be. I remember her, I always will. But I lost her, and I knew, in time, I'd lose him. When the time came, his loss wasn't as much of a pain. Isn't that awful for a daughter to say?

_I lost my mother's watch. And look! My last, or_

_Next-to-last, of three loved houses went._

_The art of losing isn't hard to master._

I sold my condo in DC and my house in Colorado…. Now, I've closed the deal for our home. I couldn't stand it. It was easier to get rid of it and what kept inside than to try to navigate a world where you were all around me, and weren't there with me at all.

I lost so many friends, so many people I loved. I lost houses, ships, projects, heck, I even lost your kid. I wonder if I'm just so cold that nothing seems to break me down and bring me to my knees. I'm just so good at losing, that I've never really known what it's like to have something firmly grasped.

_I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,_

_Some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent._

_I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster._

I guess I was trained to move, to be some sort of nomad. I was the odd one out. The weird girl. The military brat. It took me years to learn to be comfortable in one city. In the city where I met you, and it kept me going. The one that saw me nursing most of my injuries, and yours. The one that had the base that opened all those places for us.

No one dared to be close to me, and yet, you came. They came, our friends. I've lost them too, now. I had so much on my plate. But I'm a losing master and I'm the best at pushing things out. I shoved them away and guess what? I wasn't the glue keeping the ship together…. It was you, not I. For that, I am a disaster.

_Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture_

_I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident_

_The art of losing's not too hard to master_

_Though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster._

I lost you, Jack. I can't lie, I miss you every second I breathe. Yet, I'm a losing master. I know that one day, the pain will go away. I know that one day, I'll look at your picture and I won't cry like I am today. I know today it feels like it's killing me. It feels as if I can't breathe. That your embrace is all I need to be able to take a deep breath again.

But I know that losing you won't be so hard to master. Today I'll fight gasp after pant, and there will be an oppressive cloud surrounding me. Yet, you'll see… I've lost people I loved before. I know, at some point, my life won't be such a disaster.

**The end.**


End file.
